


The Trials of Lena River Boarding School

by TheUnderrealmVoid



Series: The Underrealm Saga [2]
Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Blood and Gore, Boarding School, Family, Gen, Psychological Horror, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-02-28 07:07:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22989820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheUnderrealmVoid/pseuds/TheUnderrealmVoid
Summary: "No one knew when the letters would arrive. Or maybe people just forgot. Because when the red envelopes started appearing in various mailboxes, no one was prepared. Especially not the children.30 letters, 30 victims. No way to fight back. The government would not allow it. Or rather governments. It is horrifying to see how easy they united over dooming 30 innocent children. Yes, they justified it by saying that this was the only way to lower the number of victims claimed by the monsters."When 30 children have to face off against a group of notorious killers things are bound to get ugly. Watch as horror turns to determination. But is their will to live strong enough to help them survive the terror of Jeff, Laughing Jack and Co.? Class is about to begin.
Relationships: Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer & Eyeless Jack, Jonathan Blake | The Puppeteer/Helen Otis | The Bloody Painter
Series: The Underrealm Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2112273
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	1. The Train Tracks to Hell

No one knew when the letters would arrive. Or maybe people just forgot. Because when the red envelopes started appearing in various mailboxes, no one was prepared. Especially not the children.  
30 letters, 30 victims. No way to fight back. The government would not allow it. Or rather governments. It is horrifying to see how easy they united over dooming 30 innocent children. Yes, they justified it by saying that this was the only way to lower the number of victims claimed by the monsters.  
But was it fair? Quinn thought not. It could not be. Looking at her crying mother, the red letter in hand, she was certain. This was not fair. No one expected things to go like this, not even her.  
“I got one too.” One sentence was all it took for Delilah to burst into tears. Looking at her best friend holding a letter. A letter just like hers. Both of them were doomed.  
One of the red letters was quickly hidden inside a book. Hugo knew his parents would not care. Maybe they would not even notice when he was gone in a few weeks. He did not feel scared. Just very cold.  
Hugo wasn’t the only one. The coldness was all Erik could feel as his fingers shook trying to solve the Rubix cube in front of him. The letter sat on the table right in front of him. Taunting him.  
Not everyone stayed inside though. Dante took all of his anger out to the skate park, trying to forget the grim news by embracing the adrenaline and speed.  
Michaela also tried to block out the letter. Headphones on, blaring loudly while she beat some digital zombies into a bloody puddle.  
Another unlucky soul spent his time on a computer as well. He scrolled through social media without really understanding what he was seeing. It’s all pointless anyway Vincent thought. He knew that the red letter was downstairs. He could not outrun it.  
Angel also could not focus. He tried to confide in his favorite book but had been stuck on the same page for ten minutes now. However, his problem was the tear obscuring his view even though he had cried for hours today.  
From the 30 chosen student there was only one who did not care. His name was Nicolas. It did not take long until he had the red letter in one hand and a lighter in the other. Crimson flames ate at the bloody letter and he did not let go of it even when his hand ached.

The day of departure came. It came too quickly and without any hesitation. Some of the children had to be flown out, others came by train, bus or car if the terrain allowed it.  
Nobody knew where the school was. If you could even call it a school. Because everyone was sure that there would be no learning in that cursed place.  
Despite multiple journalists' best attempts, they could only figure out where the journey would begin. In Germany. At a train station with a bloodied history.  
A flock of reporters who had been here since four in the morning was awaiting the children. It had rained the day before but now the sun was shining into the puddles. Nature could be cruel sometimes.  
Not only reporters but many curious onlookers were on site. In some bizarre way, this was the highlight of people's day. Marked in many calendars with a red pen and exclamation marks.  
Then the first ones arrived. A wave of excitement went through the crowd as a car stopped near the station. The passenger door opened and a girl stepped out. She was quite pale and her steps seemed clumsy but that was mostly due to fear. Quinn noticed all the reporters and onlookers who had come to witness her demise and felt her stomach turn.  
Her mother followed right behind her, covering her daughter's face as best as she could. “Everything is going to be fine.” A sentence which she had repeated over and over like a mantra to encourage her child and herself.  
The Auschwitz train station was a long rectangular building with a watchtower in the center. Beneath it was a big archway leading to the platform.  
The platform itself was completely deserted. No reporters were allowed there. Unless they wanted to meet their untimely demise.  
It took some time before more of the children began to show up. One after another each student showed up. Hugo drew some attention towards him by arriving in a limousine with a personal driver. Nicolas also drew attention but in a different way. He and his friends who brought him there were loud and rude to everyone around. But the numbers were rising. And then the 30 were complete.

No one knew what time the train would arrive, the letter only stating a date in which it would. The children were bombarded with questions from the reporters and the onlookers, their curiosity pushing them to get closer to the platform without standing beneath the archway.  
Parents that were there shielded their children from the flashing cameras and microphones shoved at them while the ones alone were left to defend themselves from the gossip vultures.  
Auschwitz was not a friendly place. No one had to research this station. The horror that was brought upon thousands of people who took a train from here was all too present. Now, these 30 children were the ones waiting for the train to bring their demise.  
Aside from the screeching reporters, Auschwitz was quiet. Delilah and Jo were the only ones quietly chatting. The rest of the group stood like statues in terrified silence. A sense of foreboding lay upon the platform, suffocating the children.  
All of a sudden a scream could be heard. A young girl stared in horror into the distance. The children all stared and then shivered in fear.  
The train. A red dot in the landscape slowly but surely moving towards them. Behind them, cameras flash and cursing can be heard as the reporters try to push each other out of the way. Grey smoke is pouring from the locomotive. Two passenger cars are attached to it which clank and crawl over the train tracks like big metal bugs.  
“I don’t want to go. Please, I don’t want to.” Quinn whimpered and clung to her mother. Vincent who was standing nearby watched her in pity for a few seconds before trying to find a way to occupy his shaking hands.  
The rattling machine races towards the 30 chosen ones without mercy, ready to swallow them whole and spit out their bones. The locomotive slowed slightly. “Do you have your bags?” Delilah's parents asked their daughter and Jo. The latter nodded but Delilah just cried and clung to her friend.  
An ear-piercing screech followed as the train came to a halt. The body of this creature was a bloody red with black cracks running all over it without any recognizable pattern.  
A low humming came from the locomotive. It was time to go.

The train rattled and rumbled beneath their feet. Half an hour had passed since they left Auschwitz. Faces were still wet from the goodbyes and now most of the students were in a catatonic state. Shaking, whimpering, staring blankly into the air.  
Inside the train were only small compartments fitting no more than four people.  
The walls stood close, threatening to lock the children inside. Many got stuck with their hefty luggage. Hugo had spent a long time finding a compartment. For a few moments he worried he would have to spend the long journey sleeping in the hallway. He slid open another door. The glass was tinted but he could see shadows lurking behind.  
There were two rust bunk beds each to his left and right, three of them occupied. Hugo did not bother to ask if the fourth bed was free. He was quite certain that they were not keeping it warm for a friend. The boy just pushed his bag onto the right top bunk and the climbed up.  
No one said a word. The only noise was the train rattling on and someone coughing in a neighboring compartment. Wind streamed into the cracked windows. When Hugo felt the cold, he worried.  
They were still in Poland. The country was rather tame in concerns to weather. But they were headed through Russia, to Siberia. And he was pretty sure that there were no radiators on this train.  
One quick examination of the blanket showed that while it was not thin, it was made for cold Russian nights. As if their life was not bad enough.  
After accessing his situation Hugo now turned to his fellow...classmates. One of the girls, the one on the other top bunk, had been staring at the same book page for about twenty minutes now. “Die Mythologie der Griechen” did not seem to be an interesting book. Hugo was quite bugged by the fact he could not recognize the language in writing. If he heard it verbally he would know for sure.  
The only other boy in this compartment was pierced and rough-looking in his appearance but his eyes showed such fear and concern that he might as well have been a little child. Ginger hair shaved on both sides. He looked like he used to be a rebel.  
Hugo then realized the person on the other bottom bunk was also a girl. Hard to tell with such wide clothing and short hair. It was a girl. She brought a console. A Nintendo Switch. Hugo had one too but he never really cared for it. Her face was wet, her eyes red and a heavy frown carved deep lines into her forehead.  
So this was it. His classmates. Hugo knew he probably would die side by side with these people. In that school. Far away from civilization, from safety, from family. Scratch that last one.  
Hugo dug through his bag and retrieved a book. “Faust” by Goethe. How fitting. But their demons won’t grant them knowledge. They would only eat their souls. The book was shaking in his hands. Focus.  
You only have one week, he told himself. One week before life is over.

Hugo did not plan to fall asleep. He was quite surprised when he jerked upward and it was dark. The girl who woke him jumped back. It was top bunk girl. The one with the foreign book.  
“They brought us food.” Her English only had a slight tint of another language, hardly noticeable. German, probably. Dull eyes looked at him and then closed. The girl turned around to sit next to bottom bunk girl. Hugo forced the grogginess out of his brain and carefully climbed down from his bed.  
Both girls balanced grey food trays on their knees. The bottom bunk boy had one as well and another tray sitting next to him. Hugo carefully sat down next to the male stranger and started observing his tray. He scrunched his nose.  
A plastic plate filled with greyish mashed potatoes next to chunky brown sauce. The carrots strewn across the entire dish were of a doughy texture. It did not smell bad though. The white steam smelled of meat, spice and warmth.  
Despite this, it took Hugo some willpower to take a bite. The taste was mediocre, almost nonexistent. He was not sure if he should be glad about that.  
“Where are you guys from?” the guy next to him all of a sudden asked. Hugo saw the foreign girl flinch at the sound. They each turned their heads to the boy before they looked at each other. “I’m from Georgia.” The small girl who was playing with the switch earlier did not look up as she said that.  
The foreign girl now spoke up as well. “I’m from Germany.” Hugo gave a small nod. Of course, she was. “My name is Quinn.” she then added.  
“I’m Mikah. Ah… Michaela.” the other girl added. The boy next to him introduced himself as Dante from Georgia.  
“How long will it take to...you know. Get there?” Mikah asked. Quinn shrugged and slowly rubbed her hands against each other. “It will take five days at least. It’s a long way to Lena River.” Hugo said. “Damn.” Dante gave a small forced smile.  
The atmosphere in the compartment seemed to shift. The four of them scooted closer together and started talking in hushed voices. There was no need for them to be quiet but each of them feared to disrupt the sense of peace that had built up if they raised their voice.  
Hugo turned to Quinn and pointed at the book she read before which stuck out from the bag sitting on the floor. “What is it about?”  
“Oh, it’s about Greek Mythology. It’s really good.” Her eyes lit up a bit. It was strange to hear that. Before this Hugo did not think about his classmates as actual humans. They were empty husks and he was the only one to keep a cool head. He furrowed his brows as he realized he might be wrong.

The empty trays were pushed under one of the beds. They shot out and clattered over the floor as the train came to an unexpected halt. “What’s going on?” Quinn asked. Dante was just as startled and said: “We can’t be there yet.”  
Hugo took a look outside.  
He could barely see anything. The night was thick and black but some of the white snow came into view. Snowflakes danced violently outside their window and smashed together to thicken the white blanket. The sight alone made the compartment’s inhabitants shiver.  
Did they have warm enough clothes for the cold Russian winter? What will it be like when they reach their goal? Many of them might freeze to death in that school.  
Hugo heard voices getting louder from the carriage next to them. Through the tinted rectangular window embedded in the door he saw shadows moving up and down, troubled ghosts whispering in the hallways. Someone slid their door open. A pale-faced boy with glasses stuck his head inside the compartment. From his neck hung a cross necklace.  
“Did you get the messages too?” he asked while swinging his hand wildly from one side to the other. “No. What are you talking about?” Hugo responded bewildered. “Check your food trays,” the other boy said.  
Someone shouted “Erik! Come quick!”. With that the religious boy was gone, rushing to whoever had called him. Quinn got on her knees and peered beneath her bed. She reached her arm beneath it and pulled out one of the trays. Plates and cutlery were flung from it when the train stopped so all that was left on the tray was a folded white note.  
As Quinn unfolded the paper she glanced over her shoulder to see her carriage mates staring at her. She returned to the paper to decipher the brutish handwriting before reading the note out loud:

We stop here for the night. Don’t try to run. You won’t get far. Breakfast at 7 am in the Restaurant Carriage. Those who are late will go hungry.

Hugo took another look outside the window. Why were the other students going out there? It must be freezing. Then Mikah pushed past him. Quinn followed her outside shortly after. Hugo exchanged a look with Dante. “We should join them. Who knows if we will stop again. One last breath of freedom.” The skater boy might have a point. So Hugo followed him into the cold.  
He bumped into a small girl on his way out. “My apologies,” he mumbled before turning around. “Oh no problem.” a quiet voice replied behind him.  
They were presumably the last people on the train. The small girl was followed by a much bigger one. Through listening to the small girl's chatter he found out that the big girl was named Jo. Or maybe that was just a nickname.  
Cold air entered the wagon through an open door. Hugo shivered wearing only jeans and a thin jacket. But he stepped out of the train and into the snow either way.

30 children gathered beneath a starless sky. Feet sunk deep into the snow and the cold creeping up their legs. A deep silence lay on them as every noise got muffled by the fluffy whiteness on the ground.  
They all independently raised their head to stare at the black void above them.  
How fitting, some thought.  
Where did the stars go? Why is there no moon? others wondered.  
Meanwhile many thought nothing of the sorts. Most thought of what they left behind and the horrors awaiting them at the end of these train tracks.  
As the cold winds bit into their skin they looked each other in the eye. And that was the first knot in the string which would form their bond. No word was spoken. But secretly, in the back of their mind, they knew.


	2. The Arrival

The days dragged like freshly chewed gum. A week in this train could drive anyone insane. The formerly jittery and frightened children turned into empty bored husks after about three days. There was nothing to see outside. Russia was cold and empty. The most exciting things the small villages zooming by every now and then.  
The nights were freezing. While they did not know each other that well, many of the kids slept in pairs of two on the bottom bunk, grasping at each other for warmth. Delilah was one of them. Maybe it was because of her size or her general delicacy but even with 5 layers of clothing and two blankets, she could not stay warm.  
That is where Jo came to her rescue. Her big friend did not seem to mind sleeping by her side to warm her up. For that, Delilah was thankful. Not only did she stop shaking but her nightmares were a little less intense. And when they woke the small girl up Jo was there to wipe away her tears.  
When she stirred awake today with her head resting on her friend's chest it took her a minute to open her swollen eyes. Yesterday was bad. A lot of time was spent crying and rambling to Jo in English and broken chunks of French. Jo probably did not understand all of it but she nodded to everything, handed her tissue after tissue, and hugged her tightly.  
Because this was their last day on the train. As Delilah sat up and rubbed her face she realized that in a few hours they would have to face the school. Not the best thought to wake up to. But she already cried about that yesterday.  
Delilah glanced over at the other two bunks. On the bottom one slept Erick with his back turned to her and rolled into a tight ball in the top corner of the bed. She could not see Angel but she heard his heavy breathing coming from the bunk over Erick’s.  
Delilah sighed and looked down at Jo. The other girl was snoring peacefully. One of her bandaids peeled off overnight and showed off a small pink scar.  
As if she felt the stare on her face, Jolyne opened her eyes. Delilah gave her a smile before whispering. “Good morning. Did you sleep well? Uh...as-tu bien dormi?” She hoped that that was the right French translation.  
“Hm,” Jo seemed to understand and gave a small nod before rubbing her face. Then her eyes returned to Delilah, scanning her face meticulously. “Not crying?” she asked and Delilah shook her head with a smile. “No, I’m fine. But I’m scared,” she responded while staring out the window.  
Out there the white mess zoomed past them. This train was moving too fast. With each passing second, they were getting closer. This thought, this horrified anticipation made Delilah’s heart sting in her chest.  
Jo gently patted her head which gave her a bit of hope. With Jo here with her, she would be okay. Everything would be fine. Delilah checked her phone and then nudged her yawning friend. “It’s 6:30. We should wake the others before we’re late for breakfast.” The two of them nodded in agreement before getting up to get the boys out of bed.

And then it came. The event that every single child in this train dreaded. They had not passed a village or trees or anything in a while. Delilah quietly chatted with the others in her compartment when she caught sight of something outside.  
For a second she convinced herself that her eyes were playing tricks on her. But after looking on for a few seconds it was clear.

“We are slowing down.”

Silence fell over the group. They all heard the squealing and creaking on the train tracks and watched as it came to a halt. The big machine gave one last dying scream before it stopped completely.  
It was as if every single child stopped breathing. Delilah looked at Jo with wide eyes. Jo returned her stare with the same intensity and horror; the same disbelief.  
There was no announcement, no one coming to get them but they still got up. Not really because they wanted to. Some of the passengers were not even aware of the fact that they were putting on their coats and scarves and hats. The ones who still had control over their senses hastily got dressed as well while glancing out the windows and doors. Because if they were not fast enough, someone might come and get them  
Jo’s zipper got caught in the fabric of her coat and it took some effort from Delilah’s nimble fingers to properly close it. In return, Jo wrapped a scarf tightly around her friend’s neck. Then she grabbed Delilah’s hand tightly before diving into the stream of children leaving the train.  
There was no talking. No one even dared to breathe too loudly. Delilah's breath caught in her throat. as she exited the train behind Jo. Immediately a gust of frozen air bit into her cheeks and drove tears into her eyes.  
30 children stood on an abandoned train station. Huddled together like a group of penguins. The platform they stood on was completely deserted. With relief, Delilah noted that no one besides them was around.  
To their right stood a small stone shed with broken windows and unintelligible writing. Next to it where some snow-covered benches. The floor of the platform itself was riddled with holes and broken tiles.  
“Where do we go?” Jo asked. Delilah now realized it as well. If no one was here to get them, how do they know where to go?  
“We could leave. Right now. There is literally no one around to stop us.” Delilah did not see whoever set it but a small wave went through the crowd of students.  
“If that was true, I don’t think they would have left us here without anyone to get us,” said someone right in front of Jo and Delilah. It was the blond boy from the first day on the train. She never learned his name.  
“Also, where would you even go? There is nothing here. Plus you probably won’t survive very long in this cold,” he then added.  
Delilah nodded in agreement and most of the other children seemed to share this opinion as well. They had only been out of the train for a few minutes but the icy winds were already creeping into their bones.  
“There is a path here.”  
That was Angel’s voice coming from the front. Delilah craned her neck but a very tall boy blocked her view. “Can you see anything?” she asked in Jo’s direction. Her friend was way taller than most of the other children.  
“There is a way there,” Jo confirmed.  
So that is where they went. Delilah took one last glance at the dead train before moving forward. No other way was in sight so this might be the only way to go.  
Delilah grabbed Jo’s hand more tightly when the path suddenly became steeper. They were going up a small white hill. Heavy snow had started to fall and was now obstructing her view. Was the path still there? What if they lost the way?  
And another thought roamed around in the back of Delilah’s head. A terrible thought that shook her to the core.  
What if there was no school? What if it was only a trick? No one really understood why a bunch of serial killers would band together only to offer humanity a truce in exchange for 30 children for their school.  
Then she spotted the gate. At first, Delilah thought it was a dead tree. The twirling snowflakes made it hard to see. But when she got closer she realized that it was not a tree. Two stone poles stood roughly 10 feet apart. As Delilah got closer she also spotted two delicate gates hanging almost loose from their hinges.  
Then a pair of boys blocked her point of view. Delilah turned to Jo. “Did you see the gate?” Her friend shook her head in response. Both had to blink heavily since the falling snow rushed into their faces with intense speed.  
The small crowd stopped dead in their tracks. Delilah held onto Jo’s arm as she stood on the tip of her toes to see what was going on. She could barely see over the heads of the other children but through a gap, she spotted a figure. Someone who was not a part of their group.  
“Someone is there,” she whispered in Jo’s direction. Did her friend hear her? Jo did not respond but stared ahead. “A man. With… with a mask.” she then said.  
Before she could press her friend for a more detailed description the stranger spoke. Despite the wind howling in her ears, Delilah had no problem hearing him.

“Welcome. It took you long enough. Follow me. We have no time to lose.”

So this was it. Delilah’s legs almost gave out but with the help of Jo, she followed the others who were now moving towards the gate.  
This was one of the teachers, right? This was it. This was… Delilah felt her thoughts running in a circle. She was in the back of the group so it took some time for her and Jo to reach the gate.  
But behind it was nothing. Just more snow and a small path up a steep mountain. Plus the stone poles were not attached to any fence. It looked as out of place as a clown at a funeral. Why was this gate here?  
But behind the gate the wall of falling snow seemed to thicken, almost like a blizzard. Delilah could hardly see the other children up ahead. When she got closer to the creaking gates however she now spotted the man.  
He was leaning against one of the poles with his arms crossed in front of him. She could not tell if he was watching them since a pair of big round goggles covered his eyes. Delilah squinted in hopes of seeing more of him and if he had a weapon on him but only noticed that his clothes were way too thin for this weather.  
She felt Jo’s hand on her shoulder which urged her to move through the gate. They only had two more people behind them. Delilah grabbed her friend’s hand again and started to move through the gate.  
The gate wings were rusted. Maybe it was supposed to be an intricate design once but some parts of it were broken off or too covered in ice and rust to be recognized as such.  
Delilah was hesitant to take the last stepped. Passing this threshold meant there was no turning back. Of course, fleeing was not an option on the train or the walk here either but this felt so definite. Like signing your soul to the devil or like jumping off the bridge. She had this feeling stuck in her chest. This felt final. The end of the line. Game Over.  
Jo squeezed her hand. Her anchor to reality walked right next to her. She would live. Maybe. But with Jo her chances were not as bad. So she took the final step.

Something happened. Her stomach churned as if she had been starving for a week. It curled into itself, rumbled. Delilah clutched her side in pain. She heard a groan coming from Jo. But the assault did not stop. A blinding light flashed before her eyes. Why was it so bright?  
As the pain subsided Delilah steadied herself against Jo and blinked. Her eyes were slowly getting used to her surroundings. She noticed that all the white was gone.

There was only green.

Delilah’s breath got stuck in her throat as she realized that the snow seemed to have melted. How could you explain this otherwise? With wide eyes, she took in her surroundings.  
Warm sunlight bathed the sea of green in a soft light. Delilah’s shoes landed on soft soil in the middle of a clearing. Around them stood an irregular circle of elderberry trees. Multiple thick roots broke from the ground to reach out for the sun.  
Behind them was the same gate they just passed through. Just as withered and rusty but this time in the light of the sun. In front of them stood the rest of the crowd which was just as mesmerized as Delilah. The other two kids came after they followed by the murderer.  
Sweat drops began to form on Delilah’s back. It was warm. The transition between the freezing Siberian cold and this mildly tempered forest was harsh. She copied some of the other students and quickly took off her jacket and scarf. She did not need them in this spring-like weather.  
The killer now moved past them to take his place at the top of the group to lead them deeper into the forest.  
Delilah had never seen a place like this before. The entire ground was covered in moss; not one spot was left out. As she walked beneath the trees she could almost feel how old they were.  
The trees almost seemed alive. Like gentle giants, they rocked their leaves and rustled calmly. Delilah ran her hand over the bark of one of them. It was crusty and hard like a stone shell. No path led through the forest but their guide seemed to know where he was going.  
“This is...wow. Where even are we?” Delilah mumbled in Jo’s direction who could only shrug in response. None of this made sense. And to be honest… this forest did not feel like one that belonged to a killer’s school. If anything all the trees should have been dead and black and bleeding or something.  
Instead, this felt more like a Disney Movie.  
Completely lost in thought Delilah almost crashed with the person in front of her as the group came to a halt. Again Delilah’s height made it hard for her to see anything. She looked at Jo for guidance.  
“There is a mountain, but small.” her friend said with a furrowed brow. Small mountain? “Like a hill?” Jo shook her head. Before Delilah could ask her to describe it she heard the voice of the murderer in the front.  
“Climb this. You have ten minutes.” Delilah leaned to the side again just in time to see the man crawl up a wall of mud and stone. In mere seconds he found rough stones sticking out which he used to hurl himself up.  
It looked effortless. When he reached the top of the wall he stared down at them. For the first time, Delilah could get a proper look at him.  
Light reflected from his orange-tinted goggles. Now she could also see a metal face mask covering his mouth and nose. Looking at him now he did not look that intimidating. He was tall but skinny with long legs that seemed too awkward for his body. His shoulders were slumping and she saw him flinch periodically.  
Delilah forced herself to remember who he was. A killer. Someone who would not hesitate to murder them all just for fun.  
Now no one knew what to do now. The instructions were not unclear but how where they supposed to get up there? This wall of dirt and rocks was roughly as high as a three-story building.  
Delilah watched along with the other students as the man stepped back from the wall’s ledge and disappeared from her line of sight. A moment of silence followed. Blank white faces looked around and turned, waiting for someone to step forward. Everyone was waiting to follow. But no one was ready to step up.  
In the end, they recalled the time limit and shifted closer while casting doubtful glances upward. One of the girls stepped forward and put her foot on one of the rocks sticking out from the wall.  
She was careful when reaching out for a stone above her and pulling herself up. Then she placed a left foot on a higher stone. Delilah thought of that one time she went to an outdoor play park with her family. This situation reminded her of the climbing wall she mounted there. Except this time the stepping stones were uneven and did not seem completely stable. And if they fell there was nothing to catch them.  
Jo was the one who grabbed Delilah’s arm to pull her to the front of the crowd. They did not have much time to waste.  
The girl on the wall was quite flexible. She had barely any problems and was almost at the top.  
“I can’t do it, I can’t!” Delilah turned her head to see a small boy who was shaking and looking around teary-eyed. He was not the only one who was not confident in their abilities.  
Jo and Delilah were now close to the wall. While Delilah was still looking around helplessly her friend already started climbing. “Wait, Jo! Wait for me.” Delilah called. Her friend did not respond. Jo clambered upwards and reached the top in a matter of seconds. She stood for a few seconds before looking down at Delilah. “Climb. I will pull you up.”  
Delilah nodded. But the task seemed impossible. When she grabbed the first stone and tried to pull herself up her arms shook. She stepped back.  
“I can’t do it,” she shouted to her friend. Then someone tapped her on the shoulder. It was Angel. “You want me to boost you up?” He was offering his hands. Delilah gave a timid nod. With Angel’s help, she reached one of the stones found herself halfway up the wall.  
With shaky fingers she clung to the stone. Delilah panted while trying to reach for the next one. Her vision blurred as her muscles strained to keep her balance, to keep her in the air. She caught glimpses of other students trying to her left and right. Most of them more successful than her.  
Then a hand grabbed her own. And with a force that almost dislocated her shoulder, Jo pulled her up. Delilah clung to her and let out a relieved sigh. “You okay?” Jo asked. Delilah coughed and nodded before looking down.  
People copied Angel and boosted those up who could not climb on their own. As she looked around she also saw the other students who had already reached the top of the wall pull some of the climbers up.  
All the while the masked teacher stood a few feet ahead near a tree watching them in silence. When Delilah turned to look at him she felt cold. He stood there just leaning back as if he did not care at all. Meanwhile, behind her Delilah heard the grunting, cursing and heaving of the climbers behind her.  
Did it take them ten minutes or longer to get to the top of the wall? It felt like an eternity. But finally all 30 students had reached the top. Delilah and Jo were now way closer to the teacher than they would like.  
The man stood there for a few minutes. Silently judging? Lost in thought? The goggles made it impossible to tell. He made a few steps towards them before turning around and continuing on a path. Without saying a word he just walked but the students were quick to follow.  
Delilah did not know how close they were to their destination but she felt a dreadful knot in her stomach either way. It could not be that far anymore. Almost there.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait but due to recent circumstances we all had to make some changes to our schedules. We really appreciate all the feedback we received from you and hope that you enjoyed this next chapters as well.
> 
> The main focus was on  
> Delilah and Jo  
> Both the characters were created by the talented Meowrales
> 
> Characters by: Meworales, NReborn, Alix, Amaya, Natsuki and Void  
> Co-written by: Sabrina and Alix  
> Written by: Void


	3. The Faceless Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The students arrive at Lena River Boarding School

This forest almost creeped Quinn out more than the teacher leading the way. Something about the blackened tree trunks and the fact that this place defied any sort of logic did not sit well with her. Ten minutes ago they were fighting their way through a literal snowstorm and now everyone had taken off their coats because of the spring-like temperatures.  
However, that was not the only thing. Quinn had trouble describing it but there was a knotted feeling in her stomach. A mix of nausea and fear. Something about this forest felt wrong. But it should not be surprising that the forest surrounding the killer school had a creepy aura around it.  
She carefully walked the path, steering clear of the patches of red moss on the ground. Meanwhile, she kept an eye on the teacher. Was he even one? Impossible to tell.  
The man with the goggles had not been too threatening so far. Not nice but not evil either. It seemed like he did not care too much about them.  
Suddenly Quinn spotted Hugo in the small crowd. She had been looking for the other people in her compartment to find some comfort in familiar faces. However, in the end she was too scared to actively look around. She did not want to draw the guide’s attention toward her.  
Quinn pushed carefully past a group of girls that were as pale as the Serbian snow until she walked next to him. Hugo gave her a side glance through his glasses before returning to staring straight ahead.  
She did not think this through. Not only was she almost right behind the man with the goggles but Hugo did not seem as eager for comfort as she was. No, judging by his furrowed brows and the sharp look in his eyes she could tell he was annoyed. By her? Most likely.  
All of a sudden the teacher stopped.  
The knot in Quinn’s stomach grew heavier and an intense shaking went through her body. She could only barely peak past him but she knew what it was she saw there.  
The thick forest gave way to a wide and open space. A huge almost completely even clearing rested in the center of a steep valley. The grass seemed more sickly as if the color had washed out.  
Not only that, but the trees stood so abnormally around the open space. The trunks created an almost perfect circle. It seemed too clean to be found in nature but also too perfect to be man-made.  
Quinn’s first thought was an invisible dome preventing even the smallest root from reaching into the clearing. The faces of the other students mirrored her own confusion.  
In the center of this clearing stood a hill. Or maybe a mountain? The earth steeped high, almost at a 90-degree angle to the ground. However, it seemed to be not that large.  
Something was hammered into the hill but at this distance, Quinn could not tell what.  
Her eyes wandered upwards. Not much vegetation grew on the sides. Mostly grey stones and light brown earth snaked their way up to the top of the hill. Quinn’s heart leaped as her eyes landed on the building.  
In the sleepless nights before the train ride, she had wondered what the school would look like. She expected a grey prison with bars in front of the windows surrounded by chain-link fences and barbed wire. Or maybe the ancient ruin of a castle. Or a cursed castle. But not this.  
Only a part of the building was visible. A facade in a dirty dark brown color like mud. Maybe it was mud? No matter how much Quinn strained her eyes she was not sure.  
She was about to try and look for a better angle when she realized that the group had started to move again without her. She followed right behind a really tall girl who blocked her view but would probably be easy to stick with.  
Eventually, it was Quinn’s turn to descend into the valley. The ground was flat and her shoes kept sliding off the dirt. Somehow she managed to make her way down without cracking her skull open.  
Now as their little group approached the hill which held the school on its top it seemed a lot higher than before. But the man with the goggles marched them relentlessly forward.  
At the foot of the hill, they stopped. For a second Quinn wondered how they would get to the top. Then she spotted it. An upset murmur ran through the group as more people noticed the stairs.  
Were those stairs? Steps led up the entirety of the hill. However, they were placed at an impossibly steep angle. It reminded Quinn more of a ladder than stairs. Next to the steps, a flimsy rope rode up to the top as a sort of makeshift rail.  
This seemed to be the way up since she spotted the man with the goggles ascending the stairs. He was fast, crawling up the steps like a spider. Not once did he stop or look to see if they were following.  
But they did.  
With great hesitance, the students formed a line. Quinn pushed forward a little as to not be the very last. Once she started to climb she realized it would be harder than she anticipated.  
The steep angle and lack of stable grip slowed her ascension considerably. No point trying the rope. It only cut into her hand and robbed her of the bit of balance she managed to acquire. So instead Quinn clung to the higher steps and large rocks if possible.  
The scared whimpers and labored breathing from above assured her that she was not the only one struggling. They were not even halfway up the mountain when Quinn’s calves started to burn.  
Why did so much of this trip to hell involve climbing? She did not necessarily hate climbing in general but the few times she practiced it were in a much more relaxed environment and way less challenging.  
However, stopping was not an option. Below her, more people climbed up.  
When Quinn reached for the next step she felt her sweaty fingers slip. Her arm lurched forward as panic shot through her body. She grabbed onto the ankle of the person above.  
“What the hell are you doing? Let go!”  
Quinn whimpered, her body froze up completely as the guy above her tried to kick her away. Endless seconds passed before she regained her balance and let go. From above the boy glared at her in a way that made her think of the murderers waiting for them at the top.  
So head down. Just keep climbing. But for how much longer could she go on? Her legs were nothing more than heavy ballast that only held her weight sometimes. In front of her eyes, the stony steps shifted and seemed to change shape.  
Then her palms met flat earth instead of stone. Quinn almost wept. With the last of her strength, she crawled up and pushed herself to safety.  
Red-faced and without any more air in her lungs she clambered out of the way to give the others space to come up as well. The lack of strain on her muscles made black and white fill up her vision.  
Quinn found herself surrounded by a heaving, crying mess of children. Not one person was not sweating and more than one seemed close to passing out.  
Except for their guide. He stood calm and unwavering. Staring at them through orange-tinted goggles.  
“G-get-get up. We are alm...almost there.”  
So no break then. Quinn winced but scrambled to her feet. The trot continued. Now they made considerably less progress. And more crying mixed into the scared whispers.  
Now at the top, it got a bit colder. Not as much as she expected though. Only a few trees littered the flat peak of the hill. And then there stood the muddy brown building.  
Straightaway Quinn spotted the other two. The muddy building seemed to be the biggest and stood to their right. Opposite to it, she spotted a smaller brick-shaped building.  
It looked new and modern and as if an inexperienced Sims player slapped some windows and black paint on it. The thought distracted Quinn enough to almost make her giggle.  
Finally, in the distance, there was a third ‘building’. It looked more like an abandoned cottage. It was hard to see but something about it looked wrong.  
Quinn did not get a chance to figure out what bothered her about that little house. The goggled guide led them quickly to the brown building.  
From the front, it shockingly looked like a normal high school. Big windows and steps were leading up to multiple glass doors. Like her old school.  
Just this one would include less slacking with friends and more blood and guts.  
No one wanted to enter first. For a few seconds, the group stopped, only inching forward slowly. One look at their guide made them hurry up soon.  
The first one to step over the threshold was Micah. The girl from her train cart. Pity. Quinn let the small crowd carry her as her legs still had not recovered from the staircase of hell.  
Getting closer to the doors should have filled her with dread. But she just felt tired. These past days she had experienced more anxiety, fear and exhaustion than others would in their whole lifetime.  
Quinn just wanted to lay down and sleep. Even just for five minutes.  
Beyond the doors, they entered into a sort of auditorium. All windows were darkened and left only a few slivers of light to illuminate the scene before them.  
Her breath caught so violently in her throat that she feared she might choke on it. There they were.  
Eight figures waited for them in the distance. All of them differed in shape, height and posture. Then the man with the goggles turned on the light.  
With a whirr, the light bulbs above them came to life and dispersed the darkness. Some of the children screamed. Quinn was not sure if she was one of them. Her aching limbs felt cold and unmovable. All she could do was stare.  
A long black wood table separated the students from the monsters. Some of them looked almost human. But Quinn knew she could not let appearances fool her.  
They had been briefed on this. More than once. Through suited government officials who pushed their ways into her home, she learned. None of their teachers were human.  
One of them started to step around the table. Quickly the children stepped back.  
Quinn tumbled backward both in shock and in response to the panicked pushing of her peers.  
He was huge. This creature seemed at least twice as tall as her. And she was not short. The longest parts of his body were his legs which sprouted from his rump like tree branches.  
For one second she glanced at his face. Nothing. No eyes, no mouth. Only empty skin with a skin tone that matched paper.  
It stared at them. Quinn was not sure how something without eyes could stare. But she felt it. Felt those eyes raking over them, assessing them, judging them.  
Then the creature nodded at the guide. The man with the goggles nodded back and joined the other figures behind the table.  
Finally, the faceless man turned his gaze back to them.  
Out of nowhere, a wave of discomfort crashed over her. Next to her someone groaned as if in pain.  
What kind of sick magic was this? Quinn realized it was coming from him. That faceless beast. It felt like air being blown her way by a fan. Instead of air though there was only that feeling of crowdedness. Despite the amount of room they had in this auditorium, Quinn felt like a hundred bodies were pressing the air from her lungs.  
The creature which wore a suit as if to imitate a human suddenly started to speak. How? Quinn had no idea. Nothing in its face moved. But there was a voice booming in her ears, the sound rebounding from the walls and ceiling to form a mass of thundering words.  
“Welcome to Lena River Boarding School.” There was no kindness in that voice. No malice either. Just… disinterest. It talked as if it could not care less about what the children thought of it or what happened to them. Most likely that was the case.  
Quinn shivered and stepped back when the creature took another step forward.  
“Your presence here serves to drive the diplomatic discourse between the Overrealm and the Underrealm,” it continued. “While you are here the teachers of this school will abstain from harming any humans outside of this facility. You should have been informed of this.”  
What was this thing talking about? Quinn felt a scream bubble within her at the despair that rose in her chest. She found no comfort in these words. She should feel relieved that not only her mother but also the rest of the world were safe from being harmed by these monsters while she was here.  
But she knew that the price for that safety was her own life being at risk.  
The faceless beast straightened its back before it spoke again.  
“However, you have not been informed about the school rules and how we will proceed with you here. That duty will fall to me.”  
It started pacing the room. With legs of that length, the creature had no problems getting from one side to the other in a matter of seconds.  
“All of you will be split up into Houses. Each house will have three teachers assigned to it. You will be in their care.”  
Quinn gulped. She was not the only one uncomfortable with that prospect. They all turned back to the table where the other teachers were still waiting. Their presence seemed even more threatening now.  
“There is the Slasher House. Jeff, Eyeless Jack and BEN will be the teachers of that house. You will address them as well as the other teachers with “Mr.” and “Sir”.” said the faceless man.  
Its words were followed by two of the three teachers in question stepping around the table and moving closer to them. Quinn recognized the man with the carved smile from the news. Seeing Jeff the Killer in the flesh was different than seeing him on a screen. It seemed unreal how close he was. Quinn closed her eyes for a second when she started to feel unbearably dizzy.  
The other had two gaping holes where his eyes should be, dripping black liquid.  
For a moment Quinn panicked about the third one. Where was he? But then she noticed for the first time a computer screen on the table. It flickered to life. When the static subsided and only a blonde-haired boy remained. His eyes leaked blood onto his Link costume. And his smile grew wide as his eyes darted over the fearful forms of the students.  
“BEN, read the list of the students in your House.” spoke the faceless man and turned to the screen.  
The boy nodded and from invisible speakers, his static voice sounded: “Angelo, Dylan” To her right a girl whimpered and looked in shock at the boy next to her who had gone deadly pale.  
“Step forward, wontcha.” taunted the teacher on the screen.  
Dylan slowly followed the order and stepped towards the teachers of the Slasher House.  
“Belrose, Quinn.”  
God. No. Why? Why?! Her legs moved without her. She feared she might fall. A part of her hoped she would. That way the monsters might descend on her and tear her to shreds quickly. Instead, she found herself face to face with Jeff the Killer and Eyeless Jack.  
Quinn could not hear the names that came after hers. The heartbeat in her ears was too loud and she had to focus on breathing quietly. No need to draw the eyes of the monsters to her.  
She flinched when something touched her hand. Micah, the girl she shared a bunk bed with, stood next to her with a grave look on her face. Quinn could find no comfort in it.  
Finally, there were ten of them. Ten in each house.  
“The Carnival house will be led by Laughing Jack,” At the faceless creature's words, a black and white clown stepped forward.  
“The Puppeteer,” A grey-skinned abomination with eyes and lips like gold.  
“ and Helen.” who was a monster in human’s clothing. Whatever was this man hiding behind that smiling mask?  
The clown showed his sharp teeth while reading out the names of the Carnival House students. Quinn recognized both “Berry, Angel” and “Brändle, Dante” as two more students with whom she shared a train cart. Hugo was not one of them.  
Now two groups had uneasily shuffled to the front. The tall creature waited until relative silence settled before it introduced the final house as the “Proxy House”. The teachers responsible for that house were their guide “Toby” and two others with masks which were introduced as “Masky and Hoodie”  
“With that, orientation is complete.” The tone of the faceless creature was as formal as before but something about that statement sounded foreboding.  
This was truly it. Quinn had thought that exact thing more than once today. When they left the train, when they saw their first teacher, when they climbed the mountain.  
But now it was truly real. Lena River Boarding School had finally wrapped its ugly claws around her neck. Ready to squeeze the life out of her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long wait. The holidays were quite busy so it took us some time to complete this chapter. We hope you enjoy it anyways :D


	4. Waiting For The Other Shoe To Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hugo has his first class and it does not meet his expectations

Getting up was difficult. Hugo had never realized that before. Or rather, he never had an experience quite like this. From outside the voice of the teacher could still be heard.

Time to get up. Head to breakfast and then to your classrooms. Don’t make us wait, suckers.

Was he watching them? After seeing what that particular entity could do Hugo had made sure to deposit his phone beneath his bed. But what if there were cameras? If that teacher could jump between and control screens then why not cameras?  
Hugo finally sat up. His situation could not be changed. There was no point in pitying himself already. Moving forward with care and as little risk as possible would require him to focus.  
So, instead of wasting more time wallowing in misery, he changed into the school uniform. Black and red were not his colors but at least it fit.  
The room he would be staying in for the unforeseeable future was small. Small enough that it constricted his ability to properly breathe. Standing in the center of the room Hugo could spread out his arms and touch the walls without stretching too much.  
And this small space was made even more cramped by the bed, desk, chair and wardrobe squeezed into it. The window did not open either.  
On the desk lay two pieces of paper. Hugo had studied both of them yesterday but he took a look at them just in case. Firstly, the house rules.

All orders of the teaching staff are to be followed without question.  
All classes are to be attended.  
After 10 pm no students are allowed outside of their rooms  
Leaving the school premises will result in the inability to return to campus.  
Contact with the outside world is forbidden.  
During school hours the school uniforms have to be worn.  
Attacking teaching staff is forbidden.  
Students are not allowed on the fourth floor of the school building

The list went on. Everything seemed to be mapped out, every small detail and act of rebellion considered. Did the teachers really think they would fight back? Why?  
The other page contained Hugo’s schedule. He had already noted that Mondays and Fridays the house teachers were the only ones teaching. Some of the subjects were the same as the ones at his old school but on Monday alone he had to prepare for lessons like ‘Survival’ and ‘Rec Class’.  
Carefully he folded the pages to put them in his notebook. Equipped with that, he left the room.

The screens in the hallways were dead and black. Despite that, Hugo could not help but glance at the monitors every few seconds. He did not want that teacher to catch him off guard.  
In front of him walked some of the other students. _They really just randomly picked us_ Hugo thought. The only thing that he and those people ahead had in common was the visible dread. Hunched backs, hushed whispers and glances over the shoulder. Already, this place had started to gnaw at their sanity.  
Next to him, a screen sizzled to life. Hugo froze. There it was. The bloody-eyed teacher grinned wildly at him. 

_Breakfast is on the bottom floor. Big red doors. You can’t miss it._

He stared at this one. BEN. That was the name. The creature smirked at him and tilted its head.

_Aren’t you going to say thank you?_

Hugo closed his eyes for a second. He needed to calm down. The pounding in his chest threatened to drown out every other sound. Just obey. Lay low.  
“Thank you, sir.” he then muttered, trying not to stare into those dripping eyes.

_Hm… I’m sure you can do better than that. I share some valuable information with you and you can’t even look at me? Tsk. Children these days. You still have soo much to learn. But don’t worry. I will make sure to teach you._

With a hiss of static, the screen turned dark again. Hugo took a deep breath and rubbed his shaking hands together to warm them up a bit.   
Then he continued. Mr. BEN might be watching him even now. Luckily, it seemed like Hugo was not his only victim. In the distance, he heard his voice taunting a different group of students.  
Hugo waited until all the screens were dark again before he proceeded downstairs.   
The dormitory building apparently had been built just for them. Unlike the school building, everything here was new and untouched.  
Whoever built this place should stop working as an architect. The house itself was just a chunky brick with edges that looked sharp enough to cut into flesh. Perhaps it was intentional.  
Now that Hugo thought about it, it would make sense. This school was not supposed to make you feel comfortable or safe. Why invest in big windows and open space if that will not have the desired effect?  
There is a unique horror in these narrow untouched halls. All of it felt like a blank canvas. And the only way to paint it was blood. How morbid. Hugo tried to turn himself away from such thoughts.  
In the staircase, he followed the echo of whispers and careful footsteps until he reached the bottom. From there it was easy to see the doors leading to what was probably a breakfast hall.  
Mr.BEN was not joking. The doors stuck out simply with their color. Red. Additionally, they were quite huge. Hugo noted that they were almost twice his size. Why were they so big?  
Would the headmaster be there? In his mind, that was the only reason he could think of at the moment. The creature’s frame was so incredibly tall that a special door would be required.  
In the end, Hugo did not have to worry. Neither the headmaster nor any of the other teachers were waiting on the other side of the blood doors. In fact, there was not much waiting in the hall he entered.  
Many tables and chairs stood spread out in the room, all covered in dusty white sheets. That dust also found its way onto the floor and got caught in the various spider webs hanging from the ceiling and walls.  
Hugo cautiously joined the group of confused students standing in the middle of the breakfast hall.  
He spotted two of the students with whom he shared a train compartment with. Hopefully, they would not approach him again. At least not now. Watching in silence was the safest course of action for the moment .  
There was silence in the open hall. No one was here besides them. Hugo noticed to their right a small kitchen window and an open door. However, no one seemed to be inside. He stood back as a boy with black hair cautiously approached the window in the wall.  
The boy poked his head inside, looked around and then turned back to them to shake his head. A collaborative sigh of relief washed over the small crowd.   
Then more people found their courage and ventured into the kitchen. Hugo followed at a distance. The silence of this place disturbed him especially because of Mr. BEN’s appearance only a few minutes ago.  
“It’s all untouched,” The initial investigator had taken to loudly rummaging through the metal cupboards. The boy pulled out pots and pans, all shining enough to act as mirrors.  
As Hugo progressed inside he realized that the whole kitchen was made of fresh shining metal. He felt as if he had been invited behind the scenes of a sophisticated restaurant.  
The center of the room was taken up by a kitchen island, more pans dangling above it on a pot rack.  
A few people were investigating the fridge which seemed to holding basically nothing. Only one pack of toast, some butter and a jar of what looked like jam. Concerned Hugo noted that there was no label.  
“That’s it?” asked one of the girls, sticking her head deeper into the fridge as if to find a hidden compartment in the back walls.  
“I don’t see any other food. Here are just spices,” replied Micah. He remembered her name. She talked in her sleep and had a talent for chewing obnoxiously.  
Hugo did not join the scavenging of his classmates. Together with a tall girl, he kept watch. Checking for possible teachers looking to surprise them. The girl and he did not need to exchange any words. Right now the same goal drove them forward.  
No more food was found. Which left them with 24 slices of toast. The black-haired boy who was the first one to enter the kitchen did not give his classmates a chance to discuss the matter. He ripped open the package and claimed two slices for himself.  
For a moment the children looked at each other before descending on the bread slices like starving lions. Hugo took a step back. He was not the only one. The other girl from his compartment, Quinn, had almost fallen while trying to get out of the hungry crowd. There was a terror in her eyes he could relate to.  
This was not even real hunger. On the train, their meals were filling and warm and they had one just yesterday evening. No one in this hall was truly hungry. But who could tell when they would eat next? Judging by the measly supplies provided, there was no guarantee on when their next meal would be.   
Hugo watched mouths being stuffed with feverous speed. None of the eaters looked satisfied. Only afraid. Maybe even terrified of their actions.  
Hugo now turned. One glance at his watch had a spike of alarm rise in his chest. Behind the clean glass, the face of his watch read 7:51 am. Classes started at eight.  
He did not share this epiphany with his classmates. No time. So he rushed out of the breakfast hall with long strides, leaving the desperate mass behind him. He was not ready to join them yet.

8 AM - Politics (Room 209)  
Hugo looked over his schedule one last time. Then he looked at the sign that had been drilled next to the door. The screws had broken off parts of the plastic but the number “209” was still clearly visible.  
In the hallway, others were hesitating alongside him. No one knew what waited behind these doors. No one wanted to be the first one.  
One look at his watch convinced Hugo to take that burden upon himself. Only half a minute before classes were supposed to start. Whatever awaited them in that classroom would most likely not appreciate tardiness.  
Hugo calmed himself with a deep breath and opened the door. Again he was surprised at the number of windows in the school building. It was almost blinding to be hit with friendly sunlight streaming through the big modern windows taking up most of the wall opposite to the door.  
There was no blood in this room. No guts either. This classroom looked disturbingly normal. Three columns of chairs and tables were lined up side by side. To his left, Hugo noticed multiple filing cabinets and a stray overhead projector in the corner.  
As he looked to the right he noticed the teacher. The man sat at a desk, his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of what looked to be coffee. Watching the students enter.  
Behind him was an empty, clean blackboard. It seemed entirely unused.   
Which one was this? Hugo spotted no name tag, no way to tell what he was dealing with. Knowing someone's name was only a small advantage but it could still be helpful.  
Hugo kept one eye on the teacher while he used the other one to find the right spot to sit. He settled down in the third row near the windows. At the moment it was not clear what this class entailed so sitting next to a possible exit could be helpful.  
Slowly the rest of his classmates trickled in. During the entrance ceremony, he had felt too dazed to register who was grouped up with him. Now he made sure to memorize as many faces as possible.  
The tall girl from the breakfast hall settled down next to him. Her name was Jo if he remembered correctly. This time she was without her smaller companion. She looked at him for a moment, almost bored. Then she turned towards the teacher.  
Hugo joined her and trained his gaze on the man again. Their teacher was one of the mask wearers. His was white with black lips, the eyes outlined with black as well. Black fabric had been attached to the inside of the mask around the eye area, making it impossible to see the eyes of this particular killer.  
While the mask was white, it looked very used. The edges were yellowish and Hugo spotted cracks and corners missing. Did this man ever take his mask off?  
Ten students had finally taken their seats.  
“You are late.”  
The voice was muffled by the mask but Hugo tensed. Letting go of his mug the teacher stood and stalked around the desk. There had been no obvious madness in his voice but it was only a matter of time until this man showed them his true colors.  
As Hugo looked down at his watch once more he realized that their teacher was right. This class should have started three minutes ago.  
Slowly the man came to a stop. No one could tell who he was watching but surely he was. His mask was moving from one side to the other. Like a security camera.   
“That will not happen again. There will be no repetition of this. You will be on time,” he said. The _or else_ remained unspoken but it could not have been said clearer.  
“You… you will call me Mr. Masky. I will be your Politics teacher during your time here.”  
A time which was not limited yet. The red letters were devoid of any details concerning the ending of the school year. Hopefully, there was one. School could not continue when its students were bloody corpses. Hugo promised himself that there was a different ending. He would find it.  
“Now,” The man pushed himself from the table again after having only sat on it for a few seconds. “We will begin class. You should take notes. If you have any questions, you raise your hand. I want no one talking who hasn’t been called on.”  
Carefully Hugo plucked his notebook from the table and opened it. With a quiet pencil, he noted his first observations.

Mr. Masky:  
was nervous during his introduction (slight pause before stating his name, seemed self-conscious when setting rules in his classroom, walked around restlessly)  
punctual -> possibly neat (upset at students appearing late, cleanly appearance besides mask)  
has not made threats yet, might not be as viol-

Hugo scratched out the last part. For now, those two assumptions were enough. He was in no rush. Not yet.  
Mr. Masky strode to the blackboard and fiddled with the chalk for a moment before disturbing the untouched board. Clicking and scraping along the slate stone the teacher scribbled a headline:

**Political Science and the Concept of Power**

“You will find textbooks in the middle cabinet. Open it to page 23 and then we can properly get started.” Mr. Masky said with his back to them. With swift neat writing, he added some core points below his headline.   
The rushing hand stopped and added the page number as well. He did not want to repeat himself. Or maybe he did not want them to ask.   
Either way, Hugo found himself filled with discomfort. Slowly he made his way to the cabinet, waiting until the other students did not block his way anymore before grabbing his copy of “Social And Political Science”.  
He returned to his seat and Mr. Masky began to teach them. It took a few minutes before Hugo realized what was bothering him. Everything that happened in this class so far did not line up with what had been promised to them. He found himself waiting for the other shoe to drop.  
But Hugo had yet to find the jars filled with eyeballs or bloody puddles on the floor. And Mr. Masky lacked all aggression. This felt like an average class if you leave out the fact that their teacher had never taught in his life.  
It was not like Mr. Masky was spouting nonsense or did not know what he was talking about. Far from it.   
He had started his class by venturing into the past. Showcasing democracy in Athens before making them write down the definitions for words like “Checks and Balances”, “McCarthyism” and “Pundit”.  
Hugo watched as, close to the end of the lesson, their teacher launched into a rant on how the American democracy was not worthy of the title ‘democracy’ due to the lack of actual citizen involvement.  
“Right. Now, take the books with you and read the first three chapters. You are prohibited from scribbling into these and I want all of them back here for the next class,” said Mr. Masky, huffing out a breath after the previous tirade.  
Collectively, the students held their breath. Something had to happen. Everyone was waiting for the bang. For him to turn around and charge at them with a knife.  
Instead, Mr. Masky grabbed a sponge and wiped down the blackboard. Hugo watched the chalk succumb to the wiping of the teacher before he stood up.  
Just like he was the first to enter, he left the classroom before everyone else. His mind was spinning. Hugo kind of wished that Mr. Masky had at least threatened to kill them. Because this just did not make any sense.  
What was going on at this school? And how could he protect himself from it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had to do some research for the class section of this chapter. But that was more interesting than expected.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed this first chapter. It was my first time working on a project with so many people but everyone did such an amazing job. We would appreciate any comments/feedback you might have.
> 
> Characters by: Meworales, NReborn, Alix, Amaya, Natsuki and Void  
> Co-written by: Sabrina and Alix  
> Written by: Void


End file.
